A Warning

The next day

"I'm off!" Rethrus said, adjusting his sling bag as he headed for the door.

"Hey, bring this." Mrs. Hilda handed him a small food container, her smile warm.

"Awh, you really didn't have to…" Rethrus took it, giving her a grateful smile. "But thank you, ma'am."

"Be careful now." Mrs. Hilda's tone turned softer. "And be back for dinner."

"Yes, ma'am!" Rethrus grinned and walked out onto the bustling street.

As the door closed behind him, Mr. Eddie leaned against the doorframe, watching Rethrus disappear into the distance.

"You know he's gonna leave us… maybe after the end of this week, right?" Eddie said quietly.

"I know," Hilda replied softly, her eyes lingering where Rethrus had stood. "Just… let me be happy for a moment. He's a great kid… strong yet so kind."

Rethrus walked down the lively streets, the morning sun warming his skin.

"Hey, where're you going?" some tenants called out from the side.

"Oh, just strolling the streets," Rethrus replied casually.

"Can we come?" A group of younger kids—some fanboys and fangirls—piped up eagerly.

"Sure, why not?" Rethrus shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

As they wandered through the bustling market, the air filled with the sound of street performers and merchants shouting out their deals. Laughter echoed as the group tried out various street games and admired colorful trinkets.

But even amidst the fun, Rethrus couldn't shake off an uneasy feeling. His smile faded as he glanced around, sensing… something.

'Argh… I can feel someone watching me… but why? And who?' His mind immediately thought of the Frings family, but he couldn't jump to conclusions yet.

Black Dragon Guild

The heavy doors of the guild swung open as a group of Frings soldiers marched in, led by Dante. His presence alone made the room tense. A few guild members who had tried to stop them froze the moment they saw Dante's cold, piercing gaze.

"Where's your master?" Dante's voice was calm but laced with menace.

The girl at the counter flinched. "I-In his chamber…" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh? What do I owe the pleasure of the strongest knight in this city?" Cassius's voice dripped with sarcasm as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

Dante casually poured himself a mug of beer from the jug on the counter. "I heard Rethrus was here yesterday."

Cassius raised an eyebrow. "And what's that to you?"

Dante took a sip, his eyes narrowing. "He's one of the most valuable pieces in our kingdom. We can't just let him roam around this city without ensuring his safety."

Cassius snorted. "He's strong. What's your problem with that?"

"To be honest…" Dante's tone shifted, his words more deliberate. "As part of the Frings family, we simply want to be recognized by his side. Maybe not now, but…" He gave Cassius a knowing look. "Didn't you say it yourself? The kid's a beast."

Cassius's jaw clenched. His mind flashed back to that day.

'Damn kid nearly beat a grown man to death…'

"Yeah… maybe you're right," Cassius admitted, his tone begrudging.

"But listen, the kid just came here asking about guilds. That's all. If he's got something else in mind that he didn't tell me, that's his business. Not ours."

Dante's smirk deepened, but he said nothing. The silence that followed felt heavier than the air in the room.

"And I'd suggest," Cassius added, his voice low, "that you don't poke around where you're not welcome."

Dante set his mug down with a thud, his eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.

As Dante stood to leave, Cassius couldn't shake the feeling that this was far from over.

As Rethrus and the group continued walking through the bustling streets, something stirred in his mind.

'This road… I've walked this path before.'

He slowed down, eyes scanning the familiar surroundings.

"Guys, I'll catch up in a bit," Rethrus said, offering a casual wave.

"Where you off to?" one of the boys asked.

"Just… checking something."

Without waiting for a reply, Rethrus retraced his steps, following a faint memory.

'I was walking here… then I saw some Frings soldiers. I didn't care at the time.'

His feet carried him down alleyways, each turn sparking vague flashes of recognition. But nothing stood out.

"Huh… nothing," he muttered, stopping at a familiar alley.

But then, it hit him.

'I've been here before.'

The memory played vividly now—him walking down that very alley. Without hesitation, he stepped toward it.

"Hey, look who it is. Rethrus!"

A voice stopped him.

A finely dressed man with an air of arrogance halted his chariot beside him.

'Crap. A noble,' Rethrus thought, forcing a polite smile.

"Good afternoon, sir?"

"Oh, I'm Gustav Holst." The man waved lazily. "On my way to the Gilded Lily. New dining hall. Quite the talk of the city."

"Ah… I see. Hope you enjoy your lunch, sir." Rethrus nodded, ready to leave.

"Would you mind joining us?" Gustav asked, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Rethrus blinked. "Uh… I—"

"You know, it's rude to refuse a lord, right?"

'Damn it… What the heck.'

"Of course, Lord Gustav," Rethrus said with a forced grin as he climbed into the chariot.

At the Gilded Lily

The dining hall was unlike anything Rethrus had seen. Low tables, mats on the floor—an Avalorian style adapted here as a sign of peace between kingdoms. The atmosphere was calm, filled with nobles and merchants who seemed indifferent to the looming war.

"There they are!" Gustav beamed, gesturing to a table where his family waited.

"Rethrus, meet my wife, Greshia."

"Ah, the prodigy breaking records at the academy," Greshia said warmly. Though her beauty was apparent, the fine lines on her face betrayed her age.

"Thank you, milady." Rethrus kissed her hand out of respect.

"And a gentleman too," she chuckled.

"And this," Gustav added proudly, "is our son, Gunter."

Tall, broad-shouldered, and with a sharp gaze, Gunter extended a firm handshake.

"So… this is the famous prodigy."

Rethrus shook his hand, sensing the weight behind Gunter's stare.

"He's also an elite member of the Blue Emberfox Guild," Gustav said, pride swelling in his voice.

"Blue Emberfox?" Rethrus blinked. "Wait… there's a blue one?"

"Yeah," Gunter replied with a raised eyebrow. "Why? What color was the one you killed?"

"Oh… so that story's spread this far too?" Rethrus muttered.

"Haha! Come on, let's eat," Gunter said, breaking the tension.

As they ate, Rethrus opened the food container Mrs. Hilda had given him earlier.

"Oh? What's that?" Lady Greshia asked curiously.

"Just some food my landlady packed for me."

"How sweet," she smiled.

The conversation flowed easily as they discussed Rethrus's achievements and his journey so far. Despite his discomfort, Rethrus found himself intrigued by the Holst family's warmth—though Gunter's sharp eyes never stopped observing.

"So, you really killed it with a stick?" Gunter asked, still skeptical.

"Yeah," Rethrus nodded. "Turns out, it was a prince Emberfox."

Before Gunter could respond, a man from another table approached. He was dressed in fine robes, his aura radiating nobility.

"Pardon me," the man said with a respectful nod. "May I borrow young Rethrus for a moment?"

Gustav, recognizing the man's status, didn't hesitate.

"Of course," he replied, though curiosity danced in his eyes.

As the nobles gathered around Rethrus, he remained polite, offering respectful nods and exchanging pleasantries. But then—

A sudden shift in the atmosphere.

A familiar presence entered the room.

"Ah, Rethrus," a smooth, authoritative voice called out.

Lord Frings.

Beside him, standing tall with an imposing aura, was Sir Dante, his personal guard.

Rethrus turned, his composure intact, and extended his hand toward Lord Frings. The noble shook it firmly, his smile polite but calculating.

Then, Rethrus glanced at Dante, offering his hand—

And it hit him.

A sharp jolt.

His mind spiraled as the scene unfolded before him—

He's fighting Dante.

But this was no sparring match.

Dante's claymore—massive and unforgiving—smashed against him, again and again. The flat of the blade struck his body with relentless force. Pain surged through Rethrus's limbs as he struggled to stay on his feet.

"P-Please, stop!"

A girl's voice echoed through the chaos. Desperate. Pleading.

But Dante didn't stop.

Rethrus, battered and broken, barely managed to raise his head.

"Rethrus!"

The vision snapped like glass.

"Rethrus."

Dante's voice—real this time—pulled him back.

"Are you okay?" Dante asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

Rethrus blinked, disoriented. His heart pounded in his ears.

"Ah… yes, sir," Rethrus replied, forcing a weak smile. "It's just… my first time seeing you this close. You're… actually really scary."

Dante's lips curled into a faint smirk.

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment, kid."

Lord Frings chuckled. "Why stay at that small inn when you can stay at my mansion? I insist."

"Ah, no, thank you, my lord." Rethrus shook his head quickly. "I'm fine there. Besides… I'll be returning to the main city by the end of the week."

"Very well." Lord Frings gave a curt nod, though curiosity danced in his eyes.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Rethrus added, glancing toward the Holst table. "They were kind enough to invite me. I should return."

"Of course."

Rethrus sat down, masking his unease behind a calm expression. The Holsts continued chatting, their conversation drifting toward trivial matters.

"Rethrus," Lady Greshia smiled, "our nieces… They're quite charming. Perhaps, after the war, we could introduce you to them?"

Rethrus offered a polite but firm smile.

"It'd be best to discuss those things after the war," he replied, his voice steady despite the storm in his mind.

Later That Night – In His Room

The calm façade shattered.

Rethrus sat on the edge of his bed, his heart pounding in his ears. His breaths came out uneven.

The vision.

Dante.

The fight.

And the girl's voice.

"Please… stop."

A chill ran down his spine.

"Was that… a vision of the future?"

Doubt clawed at him.

"Is that… what's going to happen to me if I keep going down this path?"

"What am I even doing?" His mind spiraled. "Maybe I should stop… walk away while I still can."

The thought gnawed at him.

Defeat.

It wasn't just about losing.

It was the humiliation.The pain. The helplessness.

"I can't… I don't want to be defeated."

But then—

The girl's voice.

Soft. Frightened.

"Who… was she?"

His chest tightened.

"Ahhhh…"

Rethrus clutched his head, frustration and fear crashing over him.

"God… please…"

"What should I do?"

Exhaustion dragged him down, and his body surrendered to sleep.